Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1887-05-14
MY COUSIN DOROTHY,

anu It'll outlying farms lnat SHINE IN the
dip of blue hills, the house of Rnderiek
Lynton is built. 1t is huge stone pile
with steep gothic roof, picturesque gables
and long, narrow doors quantity adorned
and now mellowed with the softenina
tints of years. About it rise great age
crowned oaks, green in summer. russell in
autumn; and in the thick grass wild
flowers bloom abundantly, for the soil !:
still virgin.
AS family, the Lyntons have always
been much respected, for around them vel
fingers 4 faint and indescribable charm OF
old-time distinction, which seems quite in.
dependent of ordinary circumstances in
life.
Roderick Lynton had become so entirely
Injured TO his solitary existence, that no one
dreamed OF any other condition as at ali
possible Tor him. II was already a middle
aged man, when CHANGING to meet a blue
eyed mite OF woman and quite losing his
heart he married her, his own. and also
my, cousin Dorothy.
Ever since | was so small that nv head
just showed itself above the Wheat-fields
that used 10 creep almost up to the house
on It's southern side, until now, woman
grown, | look back upon il all, and my
cousin Dorothy's beautiful home has pos
sessed for me changeless fascination. And
with her, whose special pet and protege |
have been, much of my young and quiet
life was passed. Indeed, my own home.
which is in busy and opulent city living
east of and rather remote from droUsy
Ernsclif, has never so powerfully attracted
my interest rs has this abode of my cousin 8.
and think my stepmotiier, in the midst of
her growing and rollicking family. has
kindly rejoiced in the fortunate circum-
stances which so frequently made me the
guest of the Lyntons.
Between their house and the village flows
4 broad stream, which breaks in a superb
cascade over a high ledge of mossy rocks.
and falls with a dull murmur into white.
spongy foam under the windows of tall
mill leaning above it. On its western bank.
out of empowering trees, peeps the pretty
village, beyond which the ground, gently
rising, swells at last into softly-rounded
hills. The massive stone bridge arching
the stream lends touch of antique effect,
that apparently removes Ernscliff from the
company of its busy compeers, and makes
it seem rather medieval than American.
Yet, Ernscliff is daughter of lovely Iowa.
whose veins thrill with the breezy life of
resistless force of the nineteenth century.
The house of Roderick Lynton, the ex-
travagant freak of an elder brother from
whom it descended to him, is large, roomy.
and, since my cousin Dorothy is childless,
lily suited to the use of two people grow.
ing old together. Its numerous and spa
cious apartments have extremely high
ceilings; the long. narrow windows are
mullioned, and the stairways leading to
the third story, in which the rooms. though
quite unfurnished, are kept faultlessly
clean. The most mysterious and delight
full of closets, dark and oaken, are hidden
away in doors of massive oak. OF oak,
too, are the wide, unexpected places all
over the house, and were once the dear
terra incognita" of my childhood.
Slowly, even ungainly in his movements,
large and not handsome, Mr.. Lynton has
the Softest dark eyes and the tenderest
heart have ever found in the possession of
man, and in his view the most beautiful
the most precious of earthly gifts is his
wife, so small and trim that she appears
almost doll-like.
How shall paint her, my cousin Do
rothy2 Blue-eyed. rosy, with long, light
brown hair coiled plainly round her head
warm, impetuous, devoted, at heart per-
Detual fountain of love, but perversely
bubbling over at lip with tiny vexations
and harmless and evanescent bursts of an
ger that served to amuse those who loved
her. OF Southern birth she had the in
bred instincts and the inherited traditions
of her race. Though she was devotedly at
tachei to her husband, she was TOO
womanly TO tyrannize over him. Con-
trasts i'll all other respects, they were like
wise of differing political and religious
views. For while my cousin Dorothy was
rfa or,I rry,rialfiney DraSi,Hrfa,.in,, CHI
was a faithful advocate of Democratic doc
trines. But Roderick, her husband, though
of Puritan stock honored and known in
colonial days, was an advocate of the rights
and ceremonies of the Episcopal faith and
a most ardent believer in what was then
beginning to be called abolitionism. But
to the credit of both l must add that each
too sincerely respected the other to permit
these differences in the fainteSt degree to
obtrude themselves extensively.
was not quite IS when | spent in Ems
cliff that summer which stands out in my
memory as nothing else can ever do. The
great rebellion was sweeping over the land
and even Ernscliff, though remote from its
central strength, listened with leaping
heart to the story of the war. l could
hardly understand the import of it all, but
as becomes loyal Iowan, followed with
intense interest the fortunes of the boys in
blue.
l had reached the village early in the
morning, but, unable to resist the murmul
of the tumbling waterfall, had spent much
of the day in certain well-remembered
rambles.
Here, my dear, said my cousin, as she
went lightly before me that night as l was
about to retire, Il think you must make a
little change this time in youI ROOM
would ike nv dear old Sr1r1UOarv
best, cousin" | began.
Marjorie" she answered, opening the
door of a room as she spoke, = am having
some repairs made in your old chamber
You need not mind being so far from us
Catherine sleeps just across the hall. You
are not timid, dear?i
"Of course not, Cousin Dorothy what
has any one to fear at Ernsclif?"
She gave little smile, and, holding W
her candle, critically surveyed the room.
"Its sweet and fresh as new-mown hay,
| said. For her housewifery was of the
daintiest, always.
She laid her smooth cheek to mine, pat
ting my hand gently as she did so.
:" think Won might lock your door" she
said with 2. nervousness quite rare in her
lyon Sander dear old ErnsclifT,' said
"pohody ever used to lock doors here
Should 1 grow suspecting and cowardly
now?"
"Of course not. my darling answered
Mrs. LINTON. What silly old woman
am. to be sure!' She bent down and LET
me with loving kiss. But at the door sh,
paused. and, looking back, said: 8 mus
be nervous after all l shall sleep better i
YOU humor an old woman's whim and loci
your door-good-nigh dear
This caution upon her part amused N,
for moment Then, that she might.sleel
without anxiety, l rapidly disrobed, anC
going TO the door, turned the key. I'm
fortunately, instead of locking the door,
simply loosened the key, which momen
later fell in the folds of the wrapper l wore
and though CROPPED about for it, failed t,
find it.
.'Nonsensel Tn not going to strike
light to find the slippery thing" | NUT
tered, as I YEARLY crept into bed. l fan
cied that Mrs. Lynton was little out o
sorts. and wondered why she was so; but
tired with my journey, l soon abandoned
all speculation and fell asleep.
1t was warm Nav night, and | suppos
il must have been the clear white moon
light falling across my face that awakene'
me. sat upright with a strong, but ut